Dissonance and Consonance

By Alee

Consanguinity cuts through the night, and bathes the sheets in shared sweat and softly breathed moans. Here, in this dark, damp silence their bodies move in synchronicity. It is an easy matter to forget the conflict of the day, to put aside the pain and the anguish of another eight hours spent in dissonance while the soft, slippery slide of skin fills the air.

Hands tangle in sweat-damp hair, mapping hollow and curve as they trace the flesh beneath. I am sorry, they whisper, cradling weight and tracing the curl of ears. It's a quiet language, this mesh of passion and thought, but the message echoes loudly.

I know, so am I fingers reply, smoothing over furrowed brow and clasping shoulders close. If there were words to speak this love, this passion aloud, they would shame the gaudy sun with their luminescence. But the moon, ah the moon...

She glows patiently, holding still in her own cool counsel, as they burn themselves alive under her watchful gaze. In the brief moments when sanity threatens, he is thankful that the wolf within him isn't were, that there is one myth in all the world his strange and wonderful life hasn't proven true, for that would end this glorious regret in a tide of shared blood.

But then again, they bleed together all the same. Somehow, it is fitting. So he draws his lover close, exhaling recrimination into the night and drawing in the scent of home.


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